Operation Mix
by Skyfell
Summary: Both high-profile, both prefer secrecy, both MO say "let's see how it goes", both assign to the other a face-value identity; they assume their worlds are too different to ever merge. Is "let it be" a good idea? First SenGen fic REVISED. Alternate reality.
1. Prologue

**OPERATION MIX**

**[**_**Prologue**_**]**

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

_ GMT +09:00, Tokyo, 10:02 p.m._

He had known of her good looks from multiple sources, ranging from enchanted customers who spent hours describing a hour-glass figure while drooling rather unconsciously, to bewildered colleagues of his who had absolutely no idea how she managed to slip out of their fingers without a trace; nor were the latter able to explain the mysterious, unmistakably feminine scent that lingered in any space they stood in, whether during or long, long after their report was delivered. As he was speeding on his way toward the destination, silently cursing his watch for choosing such a great time to die, words streamed through his mind about her various areas of specialties and the plan he had revised with his superior the evening before.

__Now tell me again why we are still hounding after an eight-year retiree? - idly playing with his curly hair, a stoic-looking man asked with very slight impatience._

__Because she is talented enough for _them_ to notice, - a dark-haired man with a leader-like appearance explained; but his u__nfinished answer was cut short by a sarcastic voice:_

__Oh, if you stop mimicking my signature habit, may be you would know the answer by now, Nephrite?_

__Oh, is that your newly invented phrase, my genius Zoicite? - the former shot back._

__Enough, - the leader-looking man raised his right hand. We're here to revise the plan, not for a verbal battle._

__It's not a battle at all, - the sarcastic voice justified himself while entering the scene. You're way too serious, sir, chill: we're not newbies and you know that._

_Ending his sentence with a mocking shake of his head, Zoicite brushed aside a stray blond strand of hair, smirking challengingly._

__No we aren't, - a white-haired man looked up from his stack of papers – but precaution is always required._

_The blond man sighed, throwing himself on the only vacant seat._

__Hey, why is there only four chairs now?_

__Because it's about time. The one we've been waiting for doesn't seem to prefer this wooden one with its wooden armrests any more._

_Silence reigned. The news came to them two years ago; yet__ the wound was still wide open. Everyone has a choice: _he_ had one, _he_ made one, and they respected it. Always. Just as they had always treated him as family, and always would be._

__Now, on with the plan, - the white-haired man cleared his throat._

_No way I'm running more than ten minutes behind schedule,_ - he commanded himself, accelerating.

Three minutes later, he pulled into the almost empty parking lot, already spotting a blonde standing all by herself at the other end, near the back entrance to a city-famous restaurant, mostly for its seaside view. Even though it was a windy summer night, she was sporting a short-sleeve yellow blouse with silver strips, a pair of dark khaki, a violet-shaded scarf flowing on her shoulders, making perfect background for her golden hair. As he came closer, the general description "good looks" of hers occurred to him as less than an understatement. She had an elegant, aloof and almost _pure_ appearance, topping up by a sparkling crown-shaped bobby pin on the left side of her head.

He stepped off the vehicle, holding the door open for her in an apologetic gesture. He was five minutes late.

And she pointed that out for him before the standard apology could reach his lips:

_You're five minutes late, - she allowed him a brief glance at her watch, her eyes cold. I remember having specified that the taxi should pick me up exactly at ten o' clock tonight.

_My sincerest apology, miss.

She shrugged:

_No need to. No one can be punctual all his life. He himself may strive to be, but his clock may die whenever it feels like.

"That's a pretty good guess", he thought, smiling absent-mindedly and closing the door after making sure she had got seated properly. She indeed seemed friendly enough, but what he had read from the stacks of reports on his desk still reminded him of how _disastrous_ a brief encounter with her, especially her before retirement, could turn out to be. Still, he hoped this tiny chance could be the start of a decent conversation.

_Where could I possibly have seen him before?_, a concern flashed through her mind. That gentle smile looked familiar.

She had wanted to dismiss it as silly, for how many airlines she had used, how many parties she had been escorted to, how many hotels she had stayed at, to date, she could not even remember. A taxi driver could easily fit in that mist.

Still, there was something not quite right about this particular one.

Thus the ride proceeded in silence. Regretting not having made a conversational attempt right at her joke, and stumbling on the question of which approach would be the best, he decided to make up for his late arrival by speeding and succeeded in getting her to her destination five minutes before the estimate time. She looked a bit surprised, and the tip was more generous than his usual fifteen percent standard; _which could be a habit as well_, he thought in retrospect. Taking one last glance at the outrageously marvelous hotel, he pulled out of the driveway, heading to a nearby location where many yellow cabs as his concentrated.

He took out a black device and a pair of earphones, plugging them into his ears. A prolonged _beep!_ informed him that it was ready and functioning.

_Sir, - he spoke directly into thin air – I'm afraid I do not have good enough news to deliver.

_Proceed anyway.

He detailed his silent ride.

_Well well well, - the familiarly sarcastic voice chimed in – seems like our guy needs his social skills updated.

_And our genius needs the deafening sound of this device silenced – he continued unfazed, noticing a ruff voice in the background saying "Zoicite, mind your own business" and succeeding sounds of the usual verbal battle – Sir, what should my next move be?

_If the target is more likely to forget who you are, let her be. I'd arrange for you to be reassigned another time.

_Roger that, sir.

They both hung up. But the sound of his chief's words, _target_, lingered in his mind. Somehow he did not like it this time, although generally he preferred how his superior had always referred to the VIP in their plan as targets. The more impersonal the operation would be, the better.

_ Back at the five-star hotel._

The doorbell rang. The door opened, revealing a man in his bathrobe with an eager expression, his welcoming hand extended toward the blonde.

The door closed without a sound behind them.

_I always love the way you dress, Mina-chan, - he breathed, resting his chin on her left shoulder. You always look so different from the rest of them, don't you?

The blonde winked back:

_I love standing out.

_Sure you do, - he stepped ahead, pointing toward the nearby armchair, where a blood red gown lay.

_Oh, you noticed? - she laughed coolly.

_Notice that you're different? Sure I do.

_No, that you have a secretary complex, - she continued, gesturing toward her office blouse.

_What can I say? It's my job after all – he laughed along, opening his arms.

_Turn around, - she winked – don't ruin my little surprise for you.

_Oh? - the man laughed almost vulgarly, but complied.

The blonde raised her hand, a metallic device sparked on the tip of her fingers.

_ Fifteen m__inutes later, on the hotel's rooftop._

Having already accomplished her assigned task, the blonde lady was waiting for another, less ordinary ride to appear out of the midnight starry sky. She thought over the scene she had left behind, in that royal-style bedroom the naïve client had re-booked at her request. All was neat – no clue whatsoever could be traced to her real intention in appearing there, she was sure of it. At most, local authorities would merely attribute the case, like any other, to a high-profile recreational service gone wrong. And her client, being high-profile himself, would be far too embarrassed – terrified, even, if he discovered what she had done while he passed out from the impact of her sedative needle, in addition to messing up his belongings – to ever speak out.

The roaring sound of engines hovering above brought her back to reality, and she took hold of the helicopter rescue ladder, climbing her way to secrecy skillfully as if she had been subject to such unfeminine operations for a long time. As the saying went, practice made perfect.

_How was it?

The main pilot asked without turning around.

_Like a piece of cake, - she laughed softly, the first relief she had allowed herself in an entire day.

_You did not get the wrong file like you did last time, did you? This was sudden, I can't believe we didn't have time for a plan... I was so... - the co-pilot piped up, anxiety in her voice.

_No worries, it was a clean job – the blonde smiled. And... - she added - that last time was a century ago, - the blonde sighed dramatically, but her performance was cut off by her critic:

_It was three months, one week and two days ago, actually.

_Boy, I hate your flawless memories, - the former complained, snatching a water bottle from behind her own seat.

_Oh, by the way, - she added, putting the bottle back to its place – do we still have that signature bubble bath gel left?

_You mean the one from The Body Shop? - her critic answered – Half of it, but why?

_I need some major cleaning, - the blonde sighed. That fool landed his chin on my shoulder; I need that disgusting scent off me as soon as possible.

_It's more like cologne, though – her critic countered.

_Yeah, but his using it means it's already a stained brand – the blonde shook her head again in a melodramatic manner. You're turning into a workaholic, Ami-chan, testing perfume even on duty? How many times do we have to tell you that you're already a walking encyclopedia without your ability to distinguish strange scents?

The main pilot burst out laughing, they all could feel the co-pilot's face literally heating up as she explained:

_Er, old habits die hard I guess.

_Well, sounds like you need some refreshments – the blonde commented. How fitting; I happen to have a favor to ask, how about repaying you by a shopping trip? My treat.

_Spare me, - Ami sighed – I haven't quite recovered from the bikini frenzy last time.

_That's called trying clothes on, Ami-chan, I spell it F.U.N., remember?

_Not to me – Ami mumbled.

_Oh, I'm getting a free deal then – the blonde laughed.

_Mina-chan!

The main pilot chuckled to herself, _no clue how Usagi's gonna resolve this shopping phobia. At least she acquired what we needed_ - she thought while monitoring the helicopter. Their five-member group works most efficiently with a mixed sense of responsibility and light-hearted humor. Perhaps that was why they were summoned upon this particular case.

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

**A/N:**_** I believe this would suffice for a start. If you're interested, see you again in the next chapter.**_

_**And please pay attention to time as I like to play around with it.**_

_**Chrys.**_

**Disclaimer: _Almost forgot but this should be clear by now, that everything belongs to Naoko Takeuchi-san and I own the plot only._**


	2. Stranger

**OPERATION MIX**

**[_Stranger_]**

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_ GMT +09:00, Tokyo, Starlight Apartment Complex. The same evening.  
_

It was an unusual night, to say the least. A bookworm like hers was seldom bored by being locked within her small, blue-walled quarter at the spacious penthouse she shared with her closest friends, even more rare it was for her to get fed up with having a stack of reports and unfinished assignments as her bedfellows. But tonight, she was tired of it all.

She was tired of striving, ever since she had been born, to match some ridiculously perfect ideals held up before her very eyes by her very own parents, whose inner and constant conflicts were masked by the outrageously flawless appearance of the lives they had, as a _model_ household, been leading up to that point. Her mother was one of the five leading surgeons in Tokyo with stacked-up schedules even on weekends and always on call for emergencies; her father was continually present on diplomatic assignments and inevitably absent from his only daughter's life. In fact, they hardly came home for a so-called "family meal", where they would sit down together in the dining room, munching away on high-class takeout food, slowly drifting into their own world between awkwardly unsuccessful attempts of making conversations. From the outside, her family looked like something everyone else would envy.

The usual scenario. Was it not? Where the estranged child would either ruin her own life in alcohol and drugs, speeding out of control downhill to a mental asylum or a rehabilitation center, being bribed out by her bewildered parents, only to re-start the vicious self-destructive cycle all over.

Or, as in her case, throwing the dart called "ambition" of her life at an unachievable target named _parental recognition_, trying well enough to never fail, but never well enough to achieve. She was the unattainable genius throughout her time in school, yet at home, her parents never give her a much desired hug for a perfect score she spent so many sleepless nights on.

They increased her monthly allowance, instead. And she threw herself on shopping spree, making her name known at every fashion store, bringing home tons of accessories just to donate all to charity afterward. Much as they believed and wanted her to believe, money was not everything, although she had found a better use for it than for selling off her inner bitterness.

Sometimes she thought they were feeding energy to a robot to keep up the happy façade of her family, simultaneously to hide away its underground _corruption_. She still remembered a night when she was only ten, heading home relieved from a particularly boring evening class dismissed early, feeling hungry, running into the kitchen to discover her father locking lips with a red-haired woman. Her mother's hair, as atypical as it could be to her line of career, was dyed ocean blue.

And so was her own.

Since then, she had busied herself with countless academic goals, this time not seeking anything, but rather running away from something she could not bring herself to fully register. The higher she ascended on the social ladder, away from the prestigious family name, the farther she distanced from her blood parents, especially after her mother's exposed involvement with organ trafficking in a case her law firm was working upon. At first, she had rejoiced when her mother tried with all her might to convince her to withdraw from the case, for she had thought the woman was worried such a high-profile case would include witness and lawyer elimination of some sort. She only resigned later, when the truth came to light. She was a bright practitioner, and her mother had thus worried of being exposed. She only resigned later, not only out of protocol and commonsensical codes of ethics, but also to put an end to an already dying bond.

_She threw her drink to the floor, screaming in frustration in response to the curious – and pitiful? - looks she was beginning to get from innocent bystanders. "To hell with it," she reasoned as her mouth spat out profanities she never thought she was capable of using. She saw, through the corner of her eyes, security approaching._

__Don't touch me with your dirty hands, - she shouted, deflecting the incoming grasp. Her defense classes were proving useful in a way she never wanted them to be. What's the big deal here? This world is already corrupted, a little spilling could dirty it no more!_

__Miss, we're afraid you have to leave, - the auburn-haired guard attempted to soothe her in a barely calm voice. She could understand, regardless of her intoxication. Dealing with crazies had worn _her_ patience thin, too._

__Here you are, dear! - an unfamiliar voice sounded on her left, and she could feel hands leading her away, gentle but firm enough. She remembered entering a black limo, the same female voice asking a chauffeur if they could call it a night and leave as soon as possible, before the reporters came. _

_She remembered laughing out loud and asked if Paris Hilton could possibly be helping her out._

__Who? - she felt a blank stare from her companion, whose golden hair was twinkling in confusion._

__You... donjjya know... y'kno... her? - she asked back, her speech slurred – Paris Hillll... Hilton?_

__Oh, her. Sorry for disappointing you, but no, my name is Usagi. And I... I thought you said "Paris Billton" and I was like, "who the hell is that?" But it wouldn't make sense if her last name is Billton, you know, she would pay off her bills in no time. No way they could mount up to tons. Billton, see?_

_She remembered the blonde laughing alone and her own sober-sounding comment "Pretty... simple-minded for a joke. I'm Ami, by the way". As she watched the blonde's face clouded a bit, then lightened all up with a resolution somewhere along the line of "drunken speech doesn't count"._

_She remembered uttering that she would rather be simple-minded and carefree, rather than the lonely genius she was._

That night, she opened her heart to a stranger, and was not disappointed. The blonde, or rather Usagi as she would prefer to be known, being one of her closest friends since then and all, had changed her life in a way she never thought possible. But Usagi could not be by her side all the time. The blonde had her own problems.

Idly applying some light makeup, she wondered if she was _pathetic_. She _had_ to rely on others to discover her natural computer talents. She _had_ to rely on others for company. Not that she did not enjoy her time alone – she was a solitary individual – but sometimes, it was just too much to bear.

Like that night.

Like tonight.

She put on a strapless sky blue top and a knee-length violet pencil skirt, adding a purple silk scarf with silver stripes and grabbed her purse, hailing a yellow cab. The silver-haired driver eyed her curiously before driving off. "That's right, - she thought to herself – you don't see people with glasses and a bookworm aura heading to one of the most well-known bars in Tokyo. So keep your surprise up".

She thought her cell was vibrating, and pulled it out. False alarm.

__It's you again, Ami-chan? - a bored voice sounded from the other line._

__Yup. How's life, Ryo-kun? - she tried to lighten up the conversation by sounding optimistic._

__You asked me that in our conversation ten minutes ago, Ami-chan. I was just beginning to head home from our meeting spot, where we just met an hour ago. Need I say more?_

__Ryo-kun, - she noted – you sound annoyed._

__Ami, - he sighed. When we met again after my studies in the States, I was so excited..._

__Me too, - she smiled. Remember how..._

__Let me finish – the guy cut in her sentence the same way she cut off his. I was so excited. I thought we could start over where we left off. I thought we could correct _your_ – he emphasized – _your_ mistake back then for not seeing me off at the airport, not returning my feelings and regretting it all the years after. _

__I thought so too, - she began, but he cut her off again._

__I told you once that I appreciate girls that are honest and straightforward. And by that I don't mean tossing shyness aside. I mean, I'm a shy person, myself. So I appreciate it when the girl can state outwardly how she feels. But not all the time. Not every ten minutes, Ami-chan. You're coming on too strong._

__Are you telling me that I'm clingy? - she caught on quietly._

__Why, yes, you do deserve your genius title, Ami. I don't mean to hurt you... but this... - he cleared his throat – affection... is way too intense._

__Do you know why?_

__Because you have an unhappy childhood and can't stand the thought of losing someone, I suppose._

_She could feel him shrug._

__You once told me I assume too much, Ryo. - she shook her head. She should have realized this long ago. _

__Yes, I remember. - despite the immediate response, she could feel his unresponsiveness. He could never understand._

__Aren't you presuming too much, too?_

__What do you mean? - his voice was harsh, and defensive. He never took criticism well._

__It's true I'm constantly in fear of losing someone I love without telling that person how much I love him. _

_Usagi had changed her life forever, indeed. In a way that teaches her to live in the spirit of the present. In a way that tells her to move on without haunting regret._

__You're a bit paranoid at times, - he laughed lightly, not realizing her seriousness._

__May be I am – she nodded to the phone. I remember crying over your departure back then, Ryo. I remember berating myself for not running after you when you confessed your feelings to me, instead, because of silly egotism, acted all brave and indifferent. I was so happy when you came back. I was so happy when _we_ – she stressed – _we_ both decided on a second chance. But many things had changed since you left, Ryo. Good changes. Bittersweet ones that told me if I could not be straightforward with my feelings, I would live my life in regret again. Bittersweet ones that told me **in a moment, everything can change**. And if that comes, I would like to be prepared. By telling those I care for that I care._

__Ami, what is the meaning of this? - Ryo sounded incredulous. "Finally, - she thought – he is catching..."_

_But her expectation was not met._

__Now you're quoting that Duff girl's song? (1)_

_She sighed. She should have seen that coming._

__My point is, I don't want to live a life of regret. No more. But if you disagree, it's your choice, Ryo-kun._

_Realization hit Urawa like tidal waves sweeping away a rock thrown carelessly into the vast space of oceans._

__You can't possibly mean..._

__We're not gonna work, Urawa-kun. I'm sorry. I hope we can be friends afterward. Because I don't want to regret losing a good friend, either._

_She hung up, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away, her eyes calm. She should have known. A childhood crush was too late to be reciprocated, because they had grown apart._

_No more of regret_. It was a thought injected into her colorless life by the sunny Usagi, who had changed her life in the most fundamental kind of ways possible. Now she lives for a cause, and her life is filled with meaning.

_Miss? We have arrived.

She had been spacing out.

_Ah, thank you.

She paid the fare and got off the cab, but not before getting an odd look from the silver-haired driver.

She shrugged it off, entering the place after showing her membership card to the entrance guards, who scrutinized her closely to make sure she was not an underage bookworm attempting the flavor of adult life.

She took a seat near the window, and was waiting for her drink when she heard a familiar voice from the next table, behind the smoky glass. It was slurred with alcohol, but her flawless memory registered it as...

_Ryo, buddy, come on, don't be so dejected. It's just a girl after all.

_Well, fuck her, that bitch with ridiculous hair color. - the familiar, alcohol-stained voice slurred.

She could not believe her own ears. _Why, Ryo? _

She would like to think of it as drunken speech from a broken man, but her intuition screamed at her to wake up._  
_

_She went like " I hope we can be friends afterward. Because I don't want to regret losing a good friend, either". Good friend my dick. She just could not get over the thought of losing me; I bet she'd come running back in no time.

_Wow, the States changed you quite a bit, eh?

_Eye-opening.

Came satisfied, almost vulgar laughter.

_She's just playing hard to catch.

_Like any other bitch, eh?

_Man, she was my easiest catch.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she forced them back down. She remembered her headstrong friend, Rei, had said over one heartbreak: _don't cry, jerks aren't worth your tears_.

_Excuse me, miss.

A gentle voice sounded nearby, she swallowed the last drop of brokenness inside her and looked up.

_Your drink's ready.

_Thank you, - she smiled to the blond waiter with a low ponytail. She took the drink, but the waiter refused to leave.

_May I help you? - she looked at him again, this time with curiosity.

_I'm just off my shift, - he explained, popping into the seat in front of her.

_I see – she took a sip, looking into Tokyo's midnight blue sky.

_By the way, - he looked at her expectantly, stopping mid-sentence until she turned to meet his gaze – you look familiar.

_Oh?

_Say, do you think we are related?

Ami almost spat out her drink in mid-sip.

_Excuse me?

_I take that as a no, - he continued – So, do you want us to be related?

She stared at him for a few moments, then burst out laughing – the twinkling, natural laughter she had not let out since her breakup with Ryo. The poor man looked torn between enchantment and embarassment.

_Guess it's not working, - he muttered under his breath. I'll kill _him_ for taking advantage of my situation...

_Whoever gave you that pickup line, - she said after composing herself – it was a nice try.

_More like an attempt, - he sighed.

The automatic correction struck her as a bit odd.

_I take it this is your night job, - she said thoughtfully.

_Whoa... - he looked surprised – yes, but... How in heaven's name...

_Few would correct that word to suit the situation better.

_You're sure observant, - he laughed. Are you a detective or law enforcement officer, then?

_Boy, that was close,_ - Ami caught her breath.

_In fact I'm a technical analyst, - she shared, diverting the topic away from dangerous grounds. And your day job would be?

_Ami-chan? - the voice she now hated was close to her, preventing the blond man to answer. They both looked up to see a drunken face peering over the glass wall separating two tables.

_Who is he? - Urawa's eyes narrowed.

_Do you know him, miss? - the blond man looked uncertain at Ami.

_So that's it – Urawa's body swayed dangerously out of his table, his breath, stained with alcohol, spat at Ami, the one he once claimed to love – You've been cheating on me? Cut the regret crap, Mizuno. I should have know better to trust your fidelity, _bitch_.

Rage was slowly replacing hurt inside Ami.

_That's no way to treat a lady, sir, whoever you are – the blond man intervened. His voice was calm, but she noticed his right hand was curling into a visible punch on the table.

_And who the fuck are you, lowlife?

Urawa had not noticed the forming punch.

_Trash, keep your nose to yourself, - he slurred.

_I should be saying that, - the blond man stood up faster than Ami could process in her thought, and with one blow the drunkard was down.

_Learn to treat a lady with respect and I'll reconsider calling you a human being, - he said with his fists clenched.

Urawa's incoming stream of profanities was enough to alert the bar owner, who happened to be checking on his business and was mortified at the sight of a man in waiter uniform bearing trademarks of his place punching one of his value customers.

_ Fifteen minutes later, in a late-night cafe._

_I'm sorry, - Ami handed him one of the bandages she always carried – because of me...

_Yes, I was fired, I got hurt, you repeated that like the millionth time already, miss, and I'm telling you the millionth time that it is the sensible thing for a sensible, civil man to do, - the blond accepted her bandage, sighing from across the table.

_Aren't you even... regretting it? - she carefully ventured.

_I wouldn't want to work for doormats anyway, - he smiled.

She smiled in return:

_By the way, can I have your name please?

_Mine? Call me Zois.

_Why, "Zois" has a female ring to it, don't you think? - she giggled.

He pouted.

_Even more like a girl – she laughed.

_Actually, it means "life" in...

_... Greek, I know that, - she smiled. Her genius reputation certainly had factual basis. I just feel like pulling your legs a bit, I guess.

_And may I have the honor of having your name? - he asked, still pouting.

_I'm Ami.

_Nice meeting you, Ami.

They both smiled.

Their drinks had just arrived when Ami's phone rang. One look at the display on screen turned her expression serious.

_I have somewhere to go, - she explained, standing up promptly to leave.

_Well then, - he sounded disappointed, but hopeful – how... how can I contact you again?

She reached to her purse, but realized it did not contain her business card holder.

Thinking quickly, she wiped out a napkin on the table, carefully picked the straw out of her drink, and drew her cell phone number on it, looking satisfied at the coffee-color showing.

_Here you go.

She smiled to him one last time and almost dashed out of the shop.

He picked up the yet-to-dry napkin.

_Creative. Problem is, how do I store this in my pocket?

_ Five minutes later._

At the corner of the street, under the streetlight, Ami was typing furiously away. Her phone rang. She almost jumped.

_Usagi? Did we find a new lead?

_Look around.

Ami turned to see the black limo parked on the other side of the street, walked toward it, and hastily hopped on.

Zois was walking down a nearby alley, cringing at the sound of speeding tires when a dark-haired man stepped in front of him.

_Chief?

_Zoicite – the voice sounded like that of a kind but mighty leader – time for work.

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

**A/N: _Again, please pay attention to time as I like to play around with it a bit._**

_**There's more to come. And I highly recommend re-reading previous chapters as this is a revised version of what I published earlier.  
**_

_**Chrys.**_

**Disclaimer: _Almost forgot but this should be clear by now, that everything belongs to Naoko Takeuchi-san and I own the plot only._**

(1) "In a moment, everything can change" is a line from one of my favorite, "Fly" by Hilary Duff.


	3. Encounter

**OPERATION MIX**

**[_Encounter_]**

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_ Two weeks later, another evening in the heart of Tokyo._

She raised one eyebrow in surprise as her perceptive eyes took notice of a familiar silver-haired head behind the wheel. Given that all of her team were drawn into her partying mood last time, no background check on him had ever been performed. Of all negative emotions, she hated feeling unprepared. And getting into the car of someone supposedly unacquainted - who might turn out to be not so much of a stranger after all – did not count as basic preparation, last time she checked.

For a moment she had hoped her eyes were deceiving her; though she knew for sure they never did. As relaxed and friendly as who she was inside, in the line of duty, she gave off the aura of being overly cautious. She did not mind that in the least: it worked well with her attitude. _Don't mess with me you will not win_ **alive**. In the back-stabbing world she called "life", such acting was the all-time survival philosophy that had never been otherwise proven.

Just as she knew all too well there was simply no chance of getting out alive in a society veiled in secrecy without putting up an adequate social mask, she was also certain that canceling a taxi call when the cab itself was pulling into the parking lot right in front of her was not at all a wise move. Living on the streets, she trusted her intuition enough to be wary of something too vague to hold within her grasp consciously. She never freaked out easily, yet there was something about this driver that refused to set her at ease, for all she tried. Perhaps it had to do with his neatly ironed uniform which, in a professionally-trained mind like hers, indicated more than just a passionate and dedicated worker; or with the way he kept stealing glances at her when he assumed her attention was somewhere else. Her charms were self-evident pieces of fact; but those looks he kept giving her from the corner of his eyes, which she noticed from the corner of her eyes, certainly did not appear lovestruck.

To her, it seemed more like an opponent-assessment move – a somewhat silently terrified one, even: as if she could pull out a concealed gun, kill him off in the wink of an eye, then take over the wheel without overturning his cab in the process.

_Which I could,_ - she thought to herself amused - _if he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time_.

She chuckled to herself darkly.

_My, sometimes I miss my old ways, though of course those days were anything but good_.

Meanwhile, the taxi had gone from where she first spotted it to where she was standing; and oblivious to all thoughts that had been occupying her mind until he stopped the car, Kunzite found himself intrigued at her laughter, for he sensed in it something more sinister than any human laughter should have been.

_Well,_ - he chided himself mentally – _if she was like any other ordinary human being I would not be hot on her trail like this._

He held the door open for her, who entered the car without the slightest hint of recognition. Either she actually forgot who he was, he pondered the possibility as he got to the driver's seat, or her budding suspicions of him instructed her to limit whatever impression he had made on her to a mere work relationship.

If the latter was her objective – he silently hoped she had not recognized him from some forgotten past encounters – his assigned task would be uncompleted – strictly speaking, would fail. Being born with a preference to finish off whatever it was that he had started, and in a nice enough manner as well, failure seemed to him practically something too mundane he would never entangle himself in.

_This time I would not leave empty-handed_, he assured himself as he re-started the car.

Eyes set at some invisible point in the air, she informed him of the location. A quick calculation flashed through his mind: he knew both areas well, and it would take more than half an hour of travel to reach her designated spot. After all, initiating a conversation had more potential on a longer trip.

_As you wish, miss, - he eyed her briefly in the rear-view mirror, but she did not seem to notice.

She did. But rather than showing him whatever reaction it was that he was seeking from her, she turned to look outside the window, her mind drifting back to the last night she was out for the case her team had been called to work on; which, as fate would have it, appeared to be the first time she had met him.

_She never liked darkness. Up until that point in her life, darkness meant her alert switch was on. She would take on – and triumph over, at that - any opponent in broad daylight, however, the night had always been ally to her enemies, to treacherous stealth, deadly betrayal and bloodshed deception – all that had dictated her life before she met Usagi. The carefree blonde, with her signature meatball hairstyle, a broad, genuine grin and a welcoming embrace each time she spotted an acquaintance, had stopped by her suicide vehicle, extended a friendly arm, then with all her might, dragged her out of the destructive flame that she had allowed to engulf her life prior to that. It was with Usagi that she had taken her first trip to the mountains, not that she had never been up there before, but it was indeed the first time she came to enjoy nature and not to snipe out any target. It was with Usagi that she had screamed out, after so long a period of silence in her life, all the frustrations, all the fears, all the anger that life had taught her to hold back and let gnaw at her from within. It was with Usagi that she had cried her eyes out afterward, under the stars and a midnight blue sky, all the while wondering why darkness no longer seemed as threatening as it used to, when everything her tired mind could make out of her surroundings were of unrecognizable shapes. _

_Mina had since then learned that there were different kinds of darkness. There was one that for every moment was lurking out there, lying in wait to pounce at her first sign of weakness, for that and nothing else had led her life ashtray previously – what her team, her never-though-I-would-have-and-was-entitled-to family, side by side, were fighting against. There was another that at times turned her head from within, sneakily directing her to open the closed door of her past, of a time sometimes she felt as faraway as some previous life, but was tremendously more glamorous, fitting to some selfish liking than the lifestyle she embraced at present. And there was another, still, whose presence whispered to her that her world was stable, and that those she cared about more than anyone else, herself even, were safe. Right at that moment, she was looking at the last instance: Tokyo's midnight blue sky. _

_The penthouse they all lived in together soon came into view, and automatically she reached to a knob beside her seat that she knew for sure would turn down the lousy sound the helicopter engine had to be making then. Even though her team was careful enough to actively seek out an apartment building with soundproofed windows, she knew better than to leave behind a trace. A helicopter would not call that much attention to itself if it blended well with its surroundings, or if its engine sounded like a slightly large bee instead of the giant one it had to to be mimicking at first. _

_The roof opened outwardly, revealing a wide storage space that she and her team had secretly built for their helicopter, one of the more eye-catching ones of their various means of transportation. There were definitely storage places to rent, as pointed out by the fiery, economical Rei, but the fact that they were no recognizable millionaires and would likely come to fetch it at odd hours would rise unnecessary suspicions._

__Besides, rent fees for all the lots I had checked out would end up doubling the total price for building this extra story, - Ami had added back then, and proceeded to read out loud her fifteen-page comparison sheet until Rei threw her arms up in the air, her waist-long ebony hair hung over in defeat._

_Mina slid the door open, jumping off first, the red bow on her golden hair bounced happily; Ami stepped down with elegance while waving to another blonde who suddenly appeared out of their indoor elevator, and the main pilot was the last to leave her beloved vehicle, helmet in hand, revealing her chocolatey curly hair streaming down her shoulders._

__Everyone! - the other blonde greeted with a wide grin on her face, pulling all of them into a group embrace. They, in turn, returned her tight hug separately, smiling satisfactorily at the smooth rate their mission was processing at._

__Where's Rei-chan? - the blonde asked with some curiosity, her meatball-shaped hair bounced lightly as she tilted her head._

__She'd be back in fifteen minutes, - Ami answered their friend and leader's worried question. _

__Poor Rei, - Mina smirked – this time it's _her_ turn to clean up _my_ mess._

_They all laughed good-naturedly; there was indeed rivalry between the two for quite a while, but no one was hurt, or rather, no one was intended to be hurt. As Rei had explained herself:_

__The way we handle things are just different._

_Which in their terms meant that they enjoy annoying the living daylight out of each other by lifestyle, by duty, and by a sisterly friendship they had forged over time._

_They left the helicopter storage together, entering the built-in elevator, which till then still amazed them that no one had ever suspected of existing in their penthouse. After all, that was another feature they added to their residence after its initial purchase; thus it was quite logical that such designs never showed up on the original blueprints. Yet nobody noticed._

_The glass door opened this time, revealing a cozy kitchen with an unmistakeable aroma of chocolate-and-cherry cake._

__I'm hungry now, - Usagi whined while holding the door for her teammates._

_Ami was the last to step out, and the most careful one to double-check that the button to operate their private elevator was safely hidden behind a small shelf of kitchen towels. Their own fingerprints were the only access. "Maybe that's why no one took notice", she remarked to herself, contented with the little trick. When activated, the so-called vanity mirror in their kitchen slid aside without a sound, opening up space for entry; when de-activated, the whole area just looked plainly vain for having an extra mirror in the most unlikely of all places. Not that they would have visitors nosy enough – or vain enough, for that matter – to attempt to pull closer such an installed mirror, anyway. _

_She joined the others at their living room overlooking Tokyo, noticing that Usagi's childish behaviors had stepped aside for her command mode. It was one of those things she admired in one of her best friends, and probably a trait adored by others as well: her ability to stay the same, true to who she was inside, while still keeping her head up whenever needed. In contrast to Mina's icy fa__ç__ade, Makoto's __consistent bugger-off appearance, Rei's diplomatic mask and her own inquisitive silence, Usagi seemed the most unaffected by life's ups and downs, someone who would laugh under the piercing sunlight and still dance if the rain came pouring down right after that._

_Ami snapped out of her usual philosophical moment when Mina took out the USB disguised as a shiny booby pin on the front of her hair. It still amazed her how her teammate could wear such a heavy object, not in a literal sense, but which carried enough information to be confiscated at any high-tech checkpoint; and move around freely as if she never felt weighed down by responsibilities upon her shoulders. Ami knew her friend and teammate was burdened by duty, duty Mina felt she had to carry out smoothly in compensation for her past. In fact, they all were – otherwise they would still be carefree souls that never lived a moment without happiness._

_Connecting the device to her laptop and projecting the images onto the projector screen, Usagi gestured toward the clock on her nearby table:_

__According to what we've collected so far, the transaction would be taking place tomorrow evening at the harbor they've used in the past._

__Fools, - Makoto commented harshly – they should have known better by now, after all we've busted them... How many times again?_

_Automatically, Ami opened her mouth with the answer ready; but Usagi waved her off:_

__Thanks Ami-chan..._

_She was cut off by Mina, the latter's facial expression a little thoughtful and curious at the same time._

__Why a harbor, though? I mean, apart from the crap about darkness and deep water being _their_ allies, why do they always carry that out in the open? What if it rains?_

__Jeez, Mina, - Makoto grinned – we're never gonna finish the briefings at this rate. But after all, that transaction is your duty; feel free to reflect upon it – she ended her sentence with a wink._

_Mina pouted, but asked hopefully anyway:_

__If the duty's already assigned to me, can we party the night away when Rei's back, then?_

__I have an assignment due in two days' time, - Ami protested._

__Meaning you have one day and a half left to complete it, - a voice rang out from the entrance to their living room, and the poor protester turned around to see a dark-haired lady in her most intimidating posture._

__Or you can study after we've all crashed the couch, - Usagi suggested, a mischievous spark in her blue eyes._

_Ami sighed._

She smiled to herself at the memory, this time not realizing her taxi driver was glancing at her again by the rear-view mirror. Kunzite himself was taken aback. This smile was gentle and harmless as some little white cloud could be; if compared to her previous dark chuckle, it could be easily misunderstood to be of someone else's – an entirely different person who had not experienced in the least cruelties of the cut-throat world he called "life".

_What an intriguing character,_ - the thought slipped into his mind before it could be stopped. Though it was his job to take into consideration all factors that had been governing the individual's life before he or she reached a crisis point, he could not help thinking that there would never be any excuse for her actions.

_Do you mind if I turn the radio on, miss?

His words shook her out of reminiscences rather violently, and she turned her head to see his eyes looking indirectly into hers by the rear-view mirror, questioningly.

_Fine by me.

Almost instantly, "Can you feel the love tonight?" by Elton John came on air, in retrospect, she remembered having a split-second thought of the coincidence being arranged.

He continued driving, semi-consciously humming to the tune. It happened to be his favorite, and even if it were not, he suspected such a classic could never strike a nerve in even the least sensitive human being.

_What a beautiful song, - she commented when it was over. Was that regret he saw in her eyes now that the melody no longer rang through the air?

_Do you like it?

_Why not?

He smiled inwardly. More than one client of hers had noted about that challenging nature.

_It's just a question, miss.

_Doesn't mean I can't answer with a question of my own, - she eyed him by the mirror. Do you, by the way?

_Do I like it? - he asked back in a gentle voice. Why, yes – he paused – more so because it kinda shows me how real life itself is, each and every time.

_ "How real life itself is"? - she looked at the corner of his eyes with interest. An effective way of performing background check when you had no access to neither a computer nor the Internet, she had realized long ago, would be civil conversations. Not the _my-knife-is-at-your-throat-my-gun-is-at-your-temple-now-spill-whatever-you-are-holding-back_ type, though.

_It's a strange feeling, and even funnier to say out loud, - he turned left – but I just feel that way. You know, when you sorta go through life routinely, do what you have to do so you can put yourself to rest at the end of day, and all of a sudden, hearing a melody that reminds you life is too precious to let go so easily, too short to be a robot... why am I telling you this, anyway? - he laughed at himself, a sound she found strangely reassuring.

_Eh, that didn't come out as planned,_ - he scolded himself silently. He had meant to just sprout off some random facts to keep the conversation in motion; but somehow, she got him pouring out what he _actually_ felt. Sensing danger, he turned the flow toward more general topics like weather forecast of the next few days, expecting the conversation to die down; nonetheless, it surprisingly continued until he realized they had been talking inside his cab for at least five minutes since he pulled into the parking lot of her destination.

He quickly saw her off as she quickly exited the vehicle, but not before their eyes directly met for a moment, and both could notice a half-smile slowly forming until reality sank back in, as suddenly as it left.

She nodded to him and walked through that luxurious display called a five-star hotel entrance, trying to remember what they had talked about, only to realize what was left on her mind was an unmistakeably pleasant feeling.

He got back into his vehicle, taking a deep breath. He attempted to recall whatever it was that had kept them talking even when he had turned off the engine, but failed rather miserably: all he could gather was undeniable comfort. For a moment, it seemed like they had known each other forever, and could have gone on talking forever, as well.

He pulled out of the parking lot, his mind racing to make up some random things to fill in his later report. His radio was humming "I won't say I'm in love" at that moment; finding it an unnecessary distraction, he shrugged and turned it off.

_ Inside._

Under dim light of the fancy restroom – hell, even the doorknobs had some kind of precious stone embedded in them - she overturned her coat inside out to complete her disguise, her initially golden hair now bore a distinctively red color, pulled up into a neat bun, some stray strands complimenting her facial features.

She proceeded to slip out of the hotel back door. As glamorous as it might seem, her team knew full well from what kind of money the place was funded, and as appealing to her personally, it was also a painful reminder about the life she regretted having led.

It took her teenage years to realize money might be useful, still, made of useless papers as they were, but it could only be useful as a tool and never as a compass, for it never pointed loyally in one direction.

She shook her head lightly, _what a ridiculous reminiscing day_, she thought to herself. But to be honest with herself, though she felt kind of annoyed he had been the reason of delays in her mission _twice_; she would admit she did miss _that_ at times. Her team made for great company, but for another type of company, they could never replace.

Now, she would miss the meeting, or rather, miss her chance at sabotaging the meeting, if she could not catch another taxi on the spot. The hotel had been an intermediary point. And, just to avoid running into the same driver and getting caught up in something she had no time for comprehension at that moment, she made sure to take a blue cab instead.

_ At the nearest intersection._

He slapped his forehead lightly when stopping at the red light and realizing he was unconsciously taking in the gentle fragrance his passenger had left behind. _What uncharacteristic moves,_ he thought to himself. But frankly, he _did_ miss having someone to talk to, though just occasionally, yes he did. He was on more than good terms with his chief ans colleagues, in fact they are his only, fully-trusted friends – brothers, even. But conversing with a gentle female listener was bound to be different. He did miss that, and he was not denying it.

_ Ten minutes later._

_Here it is, thank you, - Minako paid her fare and almost jumped off her cab, pretending to head to the nearest pub until her taxi driver had turned the corner.

She wiped out her cell phone at once, dialing the familiar number.

Whispers answered her from the other line.

_Where the _hell_ are you, Venus?

_Mars, there was a little delay, I'm on my way, where are...?

A gunshot cut through her sentence like a sharp blade drove straight into her heart.

_Mars? Mars? _Rei_? - her voice was suppressed by forced calmness and ravaged with fear.

The line was disconnected.

She dialed back instantly.

No answer.

Venus began to run, her golden hair glowed as she plunged into darkness, trying to find her other colleagues – her _sisters_.

**A/N:**_** Heads up, guys. I recommend re-reading previous chapters as this is a revised version of what I have published earlier.  
**_

_**Chrys.**_

**Disclaimer: _Almost forgot but this should be clear by now, that everything belongs to Naoko Takeuchi-san and I own the plot only._**


	4. Busted

**OPERATION MIX**

**[_Busted_]**

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

_

* * *

Twenty-five minutes earlier, roughly during the time Agent Venus were caught up in conversation with her silver-haired cab driver._

Taking her last sip and leaving the cocktail half-finished, the woman stood up from her seat in the slum bar, heading for the door at the other end, her long black hair flowing, accentuating her curves as she walked. Heads turned, eyes boiling with lust and blurred by alcohol followed her movement as she was not a regular; but no one dared to try a street approach as they would if her no-nonsense demeanor did not scream upper-class and an impenetrable attitude. Their little dirty minds, no matter how intoxicated, could not forget just an hour earlier she had told off an aggressive regular with a disregarding, almost casual glare, her left hand placed _strategically_ on her hip.

Most of the time, a woman's clothes only covered what she wanted no one but her bed-mate to gawk at. But sometimes – some _other_ times – they served as lethal deterrent. Having had at least some brush with the underworld, the kind of petty criminals that flocked into that kind of low-class bars understood well enough that such an automatic gesture _could_ indicate a concealed weapon, and her avidity meant that she _could_ open fire before any of them _could_ open their mouth for a trembling apology.

Of course they did not know whether or not she was _actually_ armed. The possibility alone, however, was enough to dissolve any Dutch courage the liquor had helped them build, at the same lightning speed that Cleopatra's legendary pearl disappeared into the acid stream of her glass of vinegar.

She could not help a challenging smirk forming as she kept her gaze glued to the slightly ajar bar door. As much as she would hate to admit that Mina's remark was completely accurate, men in her opinion had never made it past the primal stage of visual creatures. Her treacherously irresponsible father was the shining example, was he not, when he vanished into the anonymous ocean of corrupted politicians as soon as he heard her mother was three-month pregnant with her? Certainly a woman with dignity and a swollen belly could not compete with various hourglass mistresses throwing themselves at his feet prostituting for material displays of affection.

Men were such assholes. And it was just her luck when her assignment required her to blend in waiting for one freaking hour at a slum bar nearest to the harbor.

Largely according to the information Mina, or Agent Venus as she was formally known in the line of duty, had stolen from the Russian ambassador's secretary two weeks ago, her team had come to know of an exchange plan scheduled for midnight that evening, when money and weapon would change hands effectively, anonymously, and unknown to the world under the cover of darkness. Because this would undoubtedly empower the shadow syndicate her team had been investigating until they uncharacteristically disappeared last year, it automatically became a part of their mission to sabotage the exchange and let city police finish the dirty work – confiscation of the explosives, as her team had neither use nor storage for those. A helicopter alone had taken up all the space available in their place.

She sighed inwardly as she recalled Ami's protest over using their helicopter on this side-assignment, mainly because of lack of a proper heliport in the harbor where containers were usually the typical inhabitants of space. If they could use their uniquely effective means of transportation, she would not have to suffer the toxic atmosphere in such a low-class bar. Not so much due to her naturally upper-class aura, but mostly because it reminded her of a childhood she sometimes wanted to forget.

_Sometimes._ Since remembering she had survived was, sometimes, the only motivation that kept her going.

Lost in her train of thought, she did not notice a drunk man with short silver hair staggering into her path until he was blocking her way out with a hand on the door knob and a drunken smile.

_Going somewhere, goddess?

She eyed him calculatingly, noticing almost instantly something out of place. The man had a dirty striped shirt on with a pair of stained pants, his eyes appeared clouded with alcohol, but the gaze diving into her eyes was completely sober.

Sober and _dangerous_, looks of a great pretender. He certainly had the disguise of precisely those she was fighting against.

She groaned mentally at her catch-22 situation. She could knock him out cold, and expertly playing the drunk role he was, he would feign unconsciousness professionally. But here she was not a regular; and she sure as hell did not want to deal with an offended bunch of half-drunk men shouting that one of their kind had been played _dirty_ by an _unfamiliar_ woman. A commotion would ensue, local police would be on-scene prematurely; and their carefully devised plan would be ruined. Being the veteran agent she was, Mars could never allow that to happen just to get rid of an annoying foreboding. On the contrary, ignoring the man or turning defensive would just be an invitation to jump her bones later. Not that they could do so much as touch a strand of her hair, half-drunk or not; but her team's plan would be ruined all the same.

Not a pretty sight, either way.

Tearing her gaze from his gray eyes, she gave him the once-over and smirked in response.

_So confident, aren't you babe?

She could swear all eyes were on her, looking for a weakness, seeing that she was the only woman there at that time of the night. And the man had a leadership aura, unmistakably.

_Too bad, - she drawled, disgusted with her flirting voice the moment she opened her mouth for an answer. She surveyed the scene in a quick glance: only three steps from the door, which was half-blocked by the man's feet and right hand. And to her advantage, a table situated on the left with two chairs, one knocked over, was right nearby.

She took a step forward, casually leaning on the side of the table. She was facing the man then, her distance to the door was reduced by two steps, and the knocked-over chair was touching her feet. He was still looking at her – not her body, she realized, but her knee-length hair, and for a moment strange nostalgia took over his gray eyes.

A moment of distraction was all she ever needed.

Sliding her right foot to the side, she swept the knocked-over chair forward in one swift movement, hitting her intended target on his leg. Just as she expected, the sudden pain jerked him out of his nostalgic reminiscence of God-know-what, and forced him to withdraw his hand from the door knob, jumping to the side holding his leg, his face wrinkled with annoyance.

"Clear!", she congratulated herself, and before any of the thugs could spring to action, Agent Mars bolted out of the door.

She disappeared into the company of darkness, her ears picking up on the sound behind her of tables being pushed aside, drunk feet scrambling to the door on an impromptu mission to capture the offender, and an unmistakable noise of bodies colliding with each other. Arguments, carried on more likely by fists than mouths reeking of alcohol, ensued. The thugs had found what they were looking for – if not an easy laid, then a fight to relieve any stress over not achieving the primary objective.

As long as it did not involve any outsider like her, she knew the bar owner would take care of the commotion as easily as swallowing a piece of cake without losing any of his regular customers, being a long-forgotten notorious member of the underworld himself.

Little did she know, her human obstacle had found his way out of the bar, his short silver hair glowed in the darkness vowing revenge for his bruised foot – and more importantly, his injured ego. Being tricked by a woman, and a replica of his old flame, at that!

Kaitou Ace eyed the darkness – into which he was sure the raven-haired girl disappeared – with murder in his eyes. He would take care of that later. Now, time for the transaction before his watch struck midnight.

_

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, when Agent Venus was nearing to her actual destination in the blue cab she took from the back door of the five-star hotel._

Mars was getting impatient. Neither Jupiter nor Venus had showed up. And the criminals were nowhere to be found.

She had followed exactly the direction from the map her golden-haired colleague had downloaded from the secretary's laptop after knocking him out, which was then decoded by their computer genius herself. Given Ami's precision and talent, mistake was out of the question.

_At the crossing of containers three and five of North Star Corporation, facing east,_ she repeated the code in her mind and crouched over to double-check the serial number of the small container she was leaning against. Number ten, which was situated across the walkway from the space created by the two adjacent containers, where the exchange was supposed to take place in fifteen minutes.

And her backup was nowhere to be found.

"Damn it", she muttered under her breath when into her sight came two men dressed in outdoor sportswear, each carrying a heavy-looking backpack. They were closing the distance between, and her colleagues had yet arrived. At this rate...

_Wait, backpacks?_

She furrowed her eyebrows. Explosives could not be delivered in flammable materials, that was the basic lesson for any neophyte criminal; and if there had been invented a kind of inflammable backpacks she knew Ami would gladly get one for Usagi, seeing how the blonde's kitchen _adventures_ had twice ruined their picnic plan.

Meanwhile the two men had approached each other; and with the sound of backpacks being unzipped, she recognized to her astonishment, under the dim moonlight, that what were inside them were hard cash and cocaine wrapped into small packets, respectively.

Something was definitely wrong.

And to top it all up, her phone was vibrating. _Of all times,_ she thought to herself, irritated. Her annoyed expression, however, changed to urgency when she recognized the familiar number.

She answered in a whispering voice, her eyes glued to the scene that the two men were now leaving, having already completed their transaction. It was ten minutes to midnight, too early for the schedule they had deciphered, and their opponents were always on time.

She tried to soothe her building anxiety that it was just another exchange among the millions that took place in the shadow of that harbor, but her intuition was screaming otherwise.

And Agent Venus' worried apology for being late just added fuel to the flame.

_Where the _hell_ are you, Venus? - her glare was burning into thin air, where the petty criminals had disappeared without a trace.

_Mars, there was a little delay, I'm on my way, where are...?

The "you" finishing the sentence was drowned out by a gunshot, and Agent Mars felt her phone crumbled to the ground, broken into halves by the sniping bullet from nowhere; her ears recognizing the familiar voice from that slum bar a few minutes earlier; this time, however, no longer feigning drunk but dangerously sober just as she had sensed.

_

* * *

Back to the present._

_Mars? Mars? _Rei_? - Venus' voice was suppressed by forced calmness and ravaged with fear when the disconnected sound rang into her ears.

She dialed back instantly, her other hand automatically removed her red-haired disguise in the process.

No answer.

Venus began to run, her golden hair glowed as she plunged into the darkness, trying to find her other colleagues – her _sisters_, the only reason she kept fighting aside from making amends for her past.

A familiar sound roared, catching up with her, a helmet was thrown, which she caught in a swift turn, and the brunette signaled for her to hop on, the latter's wavy ponytail bounced anxiously in rhythm with her racing heartbeat.

_I thought you were with Rei, - she put on the communication device Agent Mercury had improved for them in case they could not talk normally. When wearing a helmet, for instance.

_This freaking thing broke down, - came the irritated voice, but Venus understood the unspoken apology under her colleague Jupiter's tough guise. Talk about being caught off-guard. Her unintentionally extended conversation with the silver-haired cab driver was the more inexcusable; as she was positive now about its inevitable cause – she had not had such a pleasant, relaxing conversation with another human being, except for her friends and teammates, since what seemed like time memorial.

She was relieved when she took a glance at her watch. Seven minutes to midnight. Enough time for them to sabotage the meeting as planned.

_But what about the gunshot?_

Fear threatened to overwhelm, paralyzing her body, but she forced it down and double-check her weapon in an attempt to dismount her rising anxiety.

_

* * *

In the meantime, at the putative transaction spot._

Mars slowly turned around to the sound of metal boots knocking on the ground, as swift as the wind blowing straight into her back. The sniper had jumped off, undoubtedly, from the top of the container she was leaning against earlier, till she left her spot by a few centimeters to answer Venus' call.

Facing her, as expected, was the phony drunkard with short silver hair from the slum bar, whose foot she knocked an already knocked-over chair into earlier; just to get him out of the way.

And on his shoulder was a Remington rifle, the barrel of which was still smoking hot.

_To see you again so soon, goddess, tonight's really my dream come true. - he drawled, his eyes sparkled in blood lust. She forced down the nauseous feeling that all of a sudden rose to her throat, mentally noting a faint scar on his left cheek as the mark of identification for future reference.

_It might be your nightmare, though, - he continued, advancing toward her. The smell of sweat from his body almost made her gag.

He must have noticed her slightly wrinkled nose in the moonlight, as a smirk rose to his lips like a menacing shadow.

_Oh my, where are my manners? - he chastised himself in mockery. I should have come to pick you up dressed in an Armani suit and reeked of cologne, shouldn't I, being the gentleman I am?

Mars had not spoken a word. Her mind was racing, trying her best to think of a way out unscathed.

_My lady, have I offended you in any way? - he went on, his smirk slowly shifting into a predatory smile. Mars braced herself against her own urge to flinch. His unnaturally white teeth were flashing, taunting like the jaws of a man-eating shark before his party began.

_If not, could you please let me hear your angelic voice explain for the bruise I suffered earlier? I was merely expressing my affection, dearest, of course I mean no harm, - his sickly sweet voice was dripping with threat as her own watch was ticking down to midnight.

_Cut the chase – she met his gaze with a burning glare – State your purpose before I pistol-whip you, bastard.

_Ouch, - his hand went to his chest in mock hurt – is there really a need for such harsh words, my lady?

Wasting no more time, Mars whipped out her own revolver; but the stranger's chest pocket also held another surprise.

Mars felt a burning sensation on her right hand, realizing at once that her only weapon had been blasted out of reach by another shot from the silver-haired sniper, gunman, or whoever he was. She knew he was dangerous, and more importantly, she was alone.

_Alone._

Alone in the darkness, just as she once was.

Reality sank in. Deeply.

So did loneliness.

As unlikely as it was, despair began its deadly process of paralyzing her senses. Of every fear a human being could possibly feel, she dreaded being abandoned.

Her assailant watched in disbelief as she sank to the ground, her bleeding hands clutching her head. The fiery defiance was gone in a blink of his eyes. What was left in front of him was a fallen woman, a phoenix whose wings were broken mid-flight as she rose from the ashes.

Unwittingly he lowered his own gun and took a few steps forward for better inspection. Whatever it was that was swarming her mind at that moment, he had no clue, but he knew she was hurt worse than any human being could have suffered.

As unlikely as it was, sympathy began to well up inside the heartless man, and he had no other thought but an overwhelming desire to put her out of misery, or whatever it was that was gnawing at her from within.

* * *

When Jupiter neared the figure lying motionless on the ground, her heart froze in terror as she realized her raven-haired colleague, unconscious and bleeding.

She jumped off, but Venus had already flew to Mars' side.

_She was knocked out, her right hand injured; other than that...

As the blonde gently turned her over to check for any other wound, a flashy object caught her eyes.

Some clouds were carried away by a breeze from the sea, the moonlight shone directly into what should _never_ have been there, and Venus gasped.

On the ground beneath Mars was a single card showing the Ace of Spades.

Venus began shaking uncontrollably; and Jupiter had no other choice than calling for backup.

* * *

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

_**A/N: Sorry for the wait, everyone, I was honestly buzzing with assignments and house chores. I hope the next chapters would make up for that.**_

_**My thanks for your patience, and for adding my story on your alert list.**_

_**And if you haven't done that already, please look back on the previous chapters as it might have changed from the last time you visited.**_

_**Chrys.**_

_**Disclaimer: Almost forgot but as we all know, everything belongs to Naoko Takeuchi, I own nothing, just borrowing, you know the drill.**_


	5. Intermission

**OPERATION MIX**

**[_Intermission_]**

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

_

* * *

She could never forget that day. Her mother was preparing lunch in the hole they called their kitchen, her half-siblings, a thirteen-year-old drug-dealer-in-training and a fifteen-year-old child prostitute were enjoying a rare quiet day in their turbulent lives, she herself was lying on her stomach reading her torn comic books when the doorbell rang, shattering the comfortable silence they had all been enjoying. She looked up at her half-brother questioningly while feeling the same quizzical look directed at her from her half-sister. They were not expecting any visitors, or more frequently, _customers_, for the rest of the day._

_Her mother answered the door. She could swear her mother's shoulders were stiffening as she looked through the peep-hole, but opened it nonetheless. _

_A well-dressed man stepped in, cold calculating eyes surveyed the filthy mess they called home, and his gaze was fixed on her._

__I'm not here for _service_, - he said with a disregarding, almost disgusted side glance toward her half-sister, who was throwing her prized possession, the silk scarf a customer gave her a month earlier, over her shoulders. As if I would stoop so low, - he muttered under his breath._

_Her mother did not miss the insult._

__You already sunk past that stage, - she spat. Rei had never seen her mother that furious, and what was that burning in her eyes along with rage? Such a strange emotion on a stoic woman..._

Hurt.

__Now, now, Risa, that's no way to treat your old lover, the father of your child, - the man icily said, his eyes were still fixed on _her_. _

__I take it – his eyes almost bore a hole into her skull right now – I am looking at Rei, the lovely miniature of your youth?_

__If you do as much as touching her hair, - her half-brother spoke up, his protective instincts kicked in quickly once he realized the stranger – you'll die before you knew your assailant's face._

__Oh? - the man tore his gaze away from Rei to look at her male sibling. You remember me, then?_

__Me too, even though I was a kid when you came, - her half-sister was glaring now. Scumbag. You said you would take us in. You said you would marry Mom. You said you would give us a family name and erase our past so we could look others in the eyes when we talk. You lied._

_Rei looked at everyone in confusion. Her siblings' voices were dripping with a venom she never thought they would. Who could this man be? She had never seen him before; how did he know her name?_

__Oh, did I ever say I would do what I said? - the man laughed. Rei felt her blood freeze in its veins; his laughter was devoid of any emotion and unlike any sound she could ever imagine._

__Regardless, - he turned back to her mother – Risa, let's not fool around. I'm here to offer you a deal you could not have even in your dreams._

__The one dream I had of you would be a nightmare, always, - her mother spat back._

__Stop being so stubborn, - he waved his hand, disregarding her words. I want Rei. She's too much of a beauty to be left rotting in the slums. And I know at least two influential politicians willing to adopt her, molding her into the perfect bride for their sons. In return, you could have whatever you wanted. Money, mansion, you name it._

__Don't think you could ever take her away - her mother and half-sister dropped each word with a vengeance. Her half-brother clenched his fists._

__You're denying the opportunity of a lifetime, - he shrugged nonchalantly. Open your eyes. Think of her future. Is it worth it, leaving her here among sluts and filth? – he casually looked over her half-sister, who met his gaze squarely in the eyes, refusing to flinch. _

_In an instant, the man was thrown back at the door, the corner of his own mouth dripping blood, and her mother was trying her best to restrain her furious half-brother. The stranger rose, caressed his own bruising lips, and growled._

__You brought that upon yourself._

_And with that, he disappeared through the door. Her mother let go of her half-brother, sank to the floor, and swept Rei into her embrace with a sob._

__I won't let him, mom, not when I'm alive, - the teen said through clenched teeth._

_Don't go, bro, don't!

Rei sat upright with a sharp cry, and realized she was in a bed, not a walkway between containers.

_Where is everyone?_ - her mind was racing, hoping, praying that her friends had come, in the end, to rescue her, that they had not abandoned her to the silver-haired stranger, that...

_Rei? - a familiar blonde popped her head inside the door. Seeing that the raven-haired girl was up and shivering, she let out a squeal and dashed to her friend's side.

_I'm so sorry! - she hugged Rei tightly, refusing to let go – I'm so sorry I was late! I swear, Rei, I didn't mean to leave you alone with... with...

As exhausted as she was, Rei noticed Usagi's second-in-command was trembling herself, not being able to finish her own shaky sentence. Without a word, she threw her arms around her friend.

Together, they sat in silence, drawing strength from each other, restoring themselves.

Soothing.

Healing.

Forgiving.

_

* * *

Outside, in the living room._

Usagi turned the card over and over, examining it thoughtfully. She and Ami – Agent Mercury,more accurately – had come pick their colleagues up in the familiar black limo. Needless to say, it was a mess with Jupiter perplexed, Mars unconscious, and Venus losing her grip, the past she fought so fervently to atone had come back to haunt her in the form of the Ace of Spades. _His_ calling card, eight years back.

Ami looked up from her laptop, shaking her head in disbelief. Makoto, or Agent Jupiter, caught the gesture as she was coming out of the kitchen, and flew to the sofa in an instant.

_What is it? - she asked urgently.

_There was no mistake. All data matched. They should have performed the transaction right at midnight, at the crossing of containers three and five of North Star Corporation, facing east; and where we found you guys was exactly the perfect ambush spot. Yet intel reported that nothing whatsoever happened after we left, which was – Ami clicked another tab on screen – one minute to midnight.

_That's strange, - Makoto could not help pointing out the obvious.

_They moved it, - Usagi's face darkened.

_They what? - Ami nodded in agreement as Makoto asked back, puzzled.

_That secretary had a larger role than we thought he did, - Ami explained her theory. He wasn't just a pawn in the game. He must have informed them of the missing data, and with his description of Mina, the femme fatale he was infatuated with...

_... came Kaitou Ace, - Usagi finished, her grip tightened on the card she was holding.

_Hold on – Makoto threw up a hand, recognition dawned on her face. I know that name. Wasn't he...

_... the one who led Mina ashtray, yeah, - Usagi threw the card on the table, disgusted. The Ace of Spades was shining, reflecting the light from their ceiling, as if taunting them of the man's dark influence over their colleague, which continued long after he _forsake_ her himself, discarding her like a piece of trash no one cared about.

_He _didn't_.

_Mina? - Usagi turned around, spotting the two friends leaning on each other, and dashed to their side, eagerly offering her shoulders. Rei gratefully leaned on the other blonde; she knew Mina was trying to mask her own exhaustion and whatever it was that was troubling her; so of course having to shoulder someone with the same body build did no help to relieve that burden.

_Kaitou Ace..._

_He... didn't lure me. I came with him, _willingly_. I did.

Mina was approaching the sofa, her right hand holding her left shoulder as if she was in physical pain; but in reality all her friends knew she was suppressing the nauseous feeling she often had against her own past. Makoto stood up, and Mina all but collapsed into her friend's open arms. Those embraces were a silent message passing between them, of sins forgiven and atoned, of mistakes corrected, of eternal trust earned.

_It was _not_ your fault, Mina – Usagi, who had reached the sofa by then with Rei leaning on her, quietly spoke up. _He_ took advantage of your weaknesses. You were young, lonely, and needed someone to confide in, someone to talk to, someone to care for you, to stand up for you when your parents were busy with a new baby. I know how that felt: I have a younger brother too, remember?

Something inside Mina snapped.

_You didn't elope at fourteen! You didn't become a contract killer at sixteen, either!

She regretted it the moment she completed her outburst.

She curled up to the side of the sofa, as far from her friends' touch as possible.

_If I didn't allow him... if I knew how much my mother loved me... how much time she had put into searching for me... if I didn't let my stepfather get to my nerves that much...

She looked up. Tears were filling her eyes, threatening to fall. She knew Usagi was just being nice as the woman they all knew and loved. They would hate her now, she was sure of it. They would despise her now. She had burned her own bridge to salvation by snapping back at someone who meant her no harm, just as she had sniped out so many people in the past... in _her_ past. She could never undo what had been done.

_If you don't snap out of it right now, - Makoto's voice took on an edge she never heard of – I'm gonna beat some sense into you, and I mean what I said.

Mina turned to the brunette, startled. Makoto never threatened her friends. Did that mean she was no longer considered...?

_Am I – she asked, her voice quivering – am I not your teammate any more?

_You've never been, - Makoto shook her head; but before Mina could comprehend what was to her a terrible fact, she was enveloped in her friends' arms, she was smacked on the head, and voices filled with tears hissed into her ears.

_You're not _any_ colleague, Mina, you're my friend. For life. Promise.

_That was Makoto._

_You're the blackmailer most efficient at including in every plan of action a shopping spree, the one who knocked a Pepsi over my thesis and spent all night drying it with a fan because your hair-dryer was broken.

_That was Ami._

_You're the freaking idiot that argued with me over every freaking opinion I voiced. Not by words, but by freaking pillows.

_That was Rei._

_You're a part of the family, Mina. I don't care who you were; all I know is now you're one of us, and that's all I care about.

_That was Usagi._

Mina let a stray tear rolled down her cheek as she took in the meaning of her friends' declaration. They had never proclaimed out loud their bonds: silence was their ally, and they used their senses more than their words.

At times, however, sappy melodrama could be strangely reassuring.

_

* * *

Later._

_Night, everyone!

Usagi turned off the lights by her remote, carefully placing it as far as possible from her reach for fear she would kick it in her sleep and turn them back on by accident. After an _eventful_ night, all she could do was to help move the furniture so they could sleep in the same room in peace. She knew for a fact that Mina would have an all-too-familiar nightmare sleeping by herself.

She glared at the table, on which she knew Kaitou Ace's card was left – Ami had strategically placed her laptop over it just to keep it out of sight and at the same time keep it in a place she could find, for further reference.

After all those years, Usagi never thought he would come back to haunt Mina that way.

She reached for her phone, sending a text message to the raven-haired girl she was sure had not fallen asleep yet.

"Rei, can I ask you something?"

"You wanna know about how I ran into Ace?"

"Tell me."

"I was waiting for the right moment, in that slum bar" – Usagi smiled, she could sense her friend's attitude. The Red Shrimp, a parody of the renowned The Red Lobster, was filled with cheap liquor and cheapskates equally, after all.

"And he intercepted me as I was leaving, feigning drunk and flirting."

"Ew."

"Long complaint short, I kicked a chair straight into his leg and bolted."

"And just how did he find you?"

"If he was really Ace and not a copycat..."

"Your description matched. And look at Mina. She was on his side for two years in a row, she's our veteran officer, she's not easily shaken and you know that."

"He must have been there for the transaction, then. They must have moved it up as you and Ami deduced. I suppose he was double-checking the scene and ran into a puzzled me."

"Puzzled?"

"Yeah. I was looking at cocaine and hard cash changing hands, instead of land mines. And Mina called to ask for the exact location; I picked up the phone, and he shot it into halves".

"Yep, we've recovered that; and your gun, too."

"I know if you forgot Ami would remember that."

"Was that another complaint?"

"Unofficially; I don't wanna deal with paperwork right now."

"Alriiiiiiiiiiiight. And afterward?"

"He taunted me. And shot my gun mid-drawn, too."

Silence. Usagi waited.

"And I thought you guys weren't going to come..."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've tried your best, Rei-chan. Sleep well, alright? You have work tomorrow, too."

"Yeah, for that jerk of a boss."

"I keep forgetting, what's his name again?"

"Jadeite. Jadeite Jefferson. Why someone would name their son after a precious stone is beyond me."

"Ask Ami, not me."

"I know better than that."

"Hey!"

"Well it wasn't my fault I was introduced to his corp."

"Yes well, Mamoru kept saying he needed to strengthen the alliance and whatnot. And since you're the most level-headed..."

"And it certainly wasn't my fault that the alliance was broken a year after my transfer. I believe your hubby punched him at a cocktail party or something."

"Mamoru said he was drunk and mistook a sarcastic remark for an insult."

"Whatever. I'm still stuck here because another lead we found out linked his corp. to _them_, correct?"

"Hang in there, Rei."

"You know I'll erase this afterward, don't you?"

"The conversation's imprinted in your mind already." accompanied by an emoticon sticking its tongue out.

"Night, Usagi." - Rei smiled to herself. It might be a short nap, but would surely be more peaceful than earlier. After all, being knocked unconscious by your opponent could never mark the beginning of a good rest.

"Night".

_

* * *

Across the city._

Placing an ice bag over his bruise, Kaitou Ace could not help his thought drifting back to the raven-haired opponent he just encountered earlier. The transaction was completed without incident; but that seduced Russian ambassador secretary's description matched that of his old flame; and he was sure it had not been coincidental that another fiery spirit showed up at such a strategic location.

Interestingly enough, she was also Jadeite's personal assistant, or so his data insisted.

* * *

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

_**A/N: I know it's getting complicated and pretty dark, but it's getting better. Promise.**_

_**Chrys.**_

_**Disclaimer: Almost forgot but as we all know all belongs to Naoko Takeuchi, I own nothing, just borrowing, you know the drill.**_


	6. Conclusion

**OPERATION MIX**

**[**_**Premature conclusion**_**]**

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z~

* * *

Hey everyone,

I haven't got around to this until now; but I'd like to let you guys know that a revised version of "Operation Mix" is up. I realized I've been a little too careless with this version, and I'm too lazy to go back and replace each chapter with new contents – beside, I've already given away too much details it became confusing.

So I tried sorting it out, and that seemed to be working well so far. Just click on the link to my profile and scroll down the page, the title for the revised version is "Night Traveler".

If you're still interested, Lesalanna, LadyElaiza13, MenaHennah, angelic[dot]aquarian, Minako-chan4; see you guys in the next chapter.

Many thanks for your patience!

Chrys.

* * *

~a~b~c~d~e~f~g~h~i~j~k~l~m~n~o~p~q~r~s~t~u~v~w~x~y~z

"_**We're so accustomed to disguising ourselves to others that in the end we became disguised to ourselves**_" (François de la Rochefoucauld)


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